


I Trust You, Derek.

by MrsLeeHae



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek Feels, Derek Loves Stiles, Derek hits the shit out of Theo, Derek is gone but not really, Derek say goodbye to Stiles, Episode: s05e07 Strange Frequencies, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Jealous Derek, M/M, Male Slash, POV Derek, POV Third Person, Protective Derek, Romantic Angst, Stiles Loves Derek, Stiles calls Derek after Donovan, What-If, melancholic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsLeeHae/pseuds/MrsLeeHae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles killed donovan. Theo knows it and use it to try to make Stiles trust him.<br/>Derek took the difficult decision to leave Beacon Hills, or at least that's what makes Stiles believe that night of crescent moon. That decision still haunts him like a spirit that can not find peace.<br/>But when Theo shows up at the loft, Derek is still there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Trust You, Derek.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody!  
> This is my first work that I translate in english. I'm Italian (so if you see some errors i'm sorry in advance). But the truth is that after seeing 5x07, I had to do something for Derek.  
> I don't know how it started, I just thought that Derek had to beat the hell out of Theo. Although the description of fight scenes is not exactly an area where I know how to handle, but I tried. There's no harm in trying!
> 
> I know for a fact, that if Jeff had given me one of these three scenes where this one-shot can be broken down, I would have forgiven everything.
> 
> I ask you to be lenient.  
> This fanfiction is in pure defense Sterek. Theo is like a pimple malignant check after eating Nutella.  
> I do not hate Theo nor Cody - as far as the character is certainly not on the good side for now - but I do not like the fact that Theo seem to want to replace Derek, also with Stiles. Go away. Far from Stiles.
> 
> Maybe the characters will be a bit 'OOC, but I tried to remain as faithful as possible. I hope it has succeeded.  
> Write from the POV of Derek was very difficult, I understand why Hoechlin always said Stiles has a lot more freedom. E 'was sad, I do not deny it. Media Player has still recorded the playlist ultra-sad that I used for this one-shot. And I cried several times alone.
> 
> Thank you in advance for devoting your time to this small Sterek. (I'll be even happier if you do not have to use a barf bag ready to use.) I hope you'll let me know what you think, even offenses are fine - just do not be heavier than those that are usually directed at Jeff Davis -.
> 
> I made this because we needed this moments. I did what Jeff will never do.  
> See you at the end for final notes.  
> Happy reading. ♥

 

# I Trust You, Derek

 

 

 

 

_I push all my problems to the back of my mind,_  
 _Then they surface in my dreams, they come alive._  
 _But how many more days can I run? How many years?_  
 _Emotions flooding and now it's all seeming so clear._  
 _Forgive me now 'cause I said that I'll be there for you, care for you_  
 _I let you down, I walked away_  
 _'Cause there were things I couldn't say to you:_  
 ** _I'm breaking now_**.

_` Katy B - Crying For No Reason.` _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Derek was at his loft, cool and shady. The soles of his shoes trod the floor, ringing in the vacuum around; following him everywhere he would shift.  
Because this was the reality of today's day: he was alone.  
As in his heart, as in that apartment, so in reality. What irony.

The only source of light was the one of the sunset, that came from large and high glass window that overlooked the city.  
Another day was coming to an end.  
The rays from dark colors and warm, with their shades of orange, made it seem even that a better place where to be, more welcoming.  
Perhaps because of this, Derek had a weakness against the sunset.  
It was able to make acceptable all the rot that was around.  
According to him, everything become sweeter, softening, under the source of light that actually was going fading more and more.  
  
There were days - as that one - in which, he stopped to appreciate that kind of particularities. Maybe because somebody throughout history, had said that everybody would have to be able to appreciate the little things. Maybe because ... if they would stole those too, then we would not have anything left.  
Nothing would be left to describe us, to identify us, to bring us back in memory of someone ... nothing and nothing.  
And so you had to appreciate these little things, because they were the ones that made the difference.  
Today you have it, tomorrow .... tomorrow who knows.

And had lost so many, he, of little things. They had slipped away from his hands like water. Elusive. Unrecoverable.  
Simply gone. Away from him. Somewhere. Who knows how long, and if they would ever come back to remind him what he had lost.  
He liked to think that maybe they were saved, though.  
Because he usually had this innate talent, this heartfelt temperament to destroy all the  good around him.  
As the acid rain, which falling from the sky on a gray day and cold, crumbled and eroded whatever it happened to touch. Scratching. Bit by bit until it breaks, up to ruin it and make all that beautiful and extraordinary, bright and flashy ... disappear.

Other times, he deemed all these things ... a mere bullshit. A set of balderdash that people repeated to themselves like a mantras to address the terrible life they had chosen to live each day.  
They were not the little things that make the difference, it was not them that needed to be accepted.  
Everyone had a bit of  acid rain in themselves, only ... not everyone knew how to handle it. Water was ready to come out at the right opportunity. It had precisely the same task.  
To ruin everything. To. Destroy. Each. Thing. Of harm it and make it drip down, as tempera that breaks against a white canvas, untouched ... pure.  
Of all the things that Derek had lost and that he had failed to recover; among all those which had irretrievably spoiled and thrown away, there was the unquantifiable list of those who he had never had and those who he had instead saved. Belonging to the group of this last; of those who were now far kilometers from him ... just between these, there was a _person_.  
  
A person that in all these days, kept come back to his mind.  
An image precise.  
It was as if the brain had fragmented the scene and repeated all the time, like it was it favorite song.  
It was a back. It was his back.  
Because of the past days, that memory seemed less clear, less real. It not seems clearly focused.  
But he continued to see it retreating more and more; walked away from him, leaving him behind, as to close the last chapter of a book and look out on the prologue of a new one.  
He was sure it was his back, because he would have recognized it among a thousand. Despite the clothes on.  
He had read somewhere that when something is yours, your brain becomes so familiar to it, to recognize it without hesitation among millions equal.  
And perhaps for some time that he had never determinated, in which he had never stopped to think ... that back was really his.  
The same that now again -in his mind- simply was walking away, never looking back, no second thoughts, without another word, leaving a vacuum of unspoken words.  
The abyss between them, that had no way of being bridged.  
He had just moved away, leaving him behind.  
Without saying anything.  
At that moment, he had not expected to hear anything. Because there was nothing to add. They had already told everything.

 

Yet now that he thought about it constantly, consuming the memory and reducing it almost to a shred ... he had waited several times a different ending.  
Maybe a word or action. But the clip of memory didn't changed once, and he knew that if alluded to do so ... it was a figment of his imagination. Because he was dissatisfied. And the illusion, hope and imagination, made fun of him.  
  
However, Derek still _firmly_ believed that in this way he saved that _person_. Away from him, rejecting him in every way, also raising walls so that things that once seemed simple, would end with the appearance to be an enormous efforts. So that even share the same room for both would become something unbearable; seeing around was something to be avoided, and talk ... was never been an option, now it was right that it seemed a waste of strength and energy.

He didn't like doing it. **Never**. Not even once. But he was convinced that it was for a good cause, so he continued.

  
Sometimes he reflected with so much insistence and perseverance, which ended with him rubbing his own temples as an headache absurd  hit him.  
And he knew it was the fault of all those thoughts that as a storm harbored in his mind, confusing him and never leaving space to the Sun.  
Because he didn't deserve the Sun or could not afford it, at least.  
Perhaps he had given up on his own Sun, just as _his_ back turned _away_. That must have been the exact moment had renounced _its_ Sun, in exchange for _his_ salvation.  
Because nothing was safe in his hands, not even himself.

When he returned with his mind that night, he would trying to dive into it completely, even trying to relive the sensations, it sounds and smells.  
Usually he focused on his face, because that was the last time he had looked at that person in the face. The last time his eyes had registered his features and details. And that was the only way he had to not let the time fade away also this last memory he had on that person.  
And even if his heart every time emitted a hollow sound of protest, he ignored him and went on.  
He was aware that perhaps he was a masochistic, because ... who remembered, again and again, something that just under the skin still hurts?  
  
Most of the time, he did it because he needed a reminder; he needed to remember why it was necessary that they were far away.  
  
Then he tried not to feel guilty when he did, he repeated to himself that it made sense to do so, that there was a just cause.  
  
Focused in remembering the pallor of her skin mottled by small moles that seemed many lonely stars, in search of a galaxy. It allowed himself to recall the shape of the eyes, as they were surrounded by long black lashes and how the color of the iris remembered the one of whiskey; in particular the Bourbon whiskey, which had shades of color warmer and was more dense. Or how the nose was straight, small and it pointed upwards, as if to emphasize how he was smart and crafty. Or, how his cheeks were more sunken and cheekbones more visible and that was possible because he was still growing and the childishness was leaving him, giving way to maturity that was carrying adulthood. He could then focus on the mouth, on the endless number of times he had thought of shut him up because his voice come up inappropriately and prove annoying to the ears; when instead he came with talks that were not so ignorable, which was hardly surprising for someone of his age. He could tell how many times the same mouth had turned to him defiantly and prig, how many times had he been able to stand up to him, how many more had crept deeply touching on sore ropes. Or, he could tell how time by time, had stopped even looking for him and to call him. The only sound now addressed was the silence, and he knew he deserved it.

Or he could tell how he had left, those lips.  
  
Yes, he could do that, too.  
Derek didn't like to remember that part, but suffer was part of the punishment he deserved.  
  
Maybe he could start by time, by the fact that it was now night. The sky was almost hypnotic. He expected that this person was now sleeping, and not that slinks out of home to reach him out into the woods in the middle of the night.  
  
It was Scott that has - under a lot of pressure and with many different ways - confessed to that person the plans of Derek, and where he could find him.  
Derek had never hated Scott for that, for having blabbed everything to that person; because in one way or another, the nodes would come home to roost.  
Derek did not hesitate, did not attempt an escape, not more. He knew that he had avoided him until then and that soon it would happen; because sooner or later it had to happen. It was only a matter of time.  
It seemed that the moment had arrived.  
It was not presented in the best of circumstances, perhaps, but then when they could afford to wait for the right conditions?  
The heartbeat pounding in his ears, as well as shortness of breath blowing.

Derek had heard him come in the silence of the night, thanks to his senses even more refined than before; then, when he realized that he was missing very little to reach him in front  of the remains of the old property Hale, he decided to sit on the steps of the patio and watch him arrive.  
He allowed himself to look at him one last time coming to _him_ , for **_him_**.

Their eyes met; in that darkness limited only by the crescent moon. And like every time... something deep shook Derek; that he thought it was due to the fact that  had avoided for a while, them.

Without saying anything, as was customary, Derek stepped aside and allowed to sit beside him.  
There was no time for pleasantries, not more. Let alone that night.

"It's true?" He asked softly, almost not wanting to disturb the quiet of the woods, still out of breath. "It's true that you decided to leave?" He asked, turning to face him.

 

Derek sighed and straightened his back, ready to hear the barrage of words that would come. "And just when you were planning to tell me? In fact, it never occurred to your brain that you cared to inform me? Because to get to know it from Scott, woah ...", raised his arms to indicate what there was between their. The mess they had created. How they were reduced. How they were **_broken_**.

He saw him shake his head in disbelief, as he looked in his hands. He hastened to add something else apparently more calm. "You didn't say it to me, you realize? After all we've been through. After all the times I saved your hairy ass? After all we've shared? I thought I still be part of the pack, Derek. I thought I deserve the same loyalty that you reserve them, despite the recent times ... "

Derek decided to look at him that very moment, while he was explaining with iron logic his standpoint. While he showed how Derek was a selfish, malicious, destructive and bastard.

 

"Are you at least going to tell me where will you go? How long? When are you going back?", Their eyes met again, closer now, and Derek wondered if in the future he would have missed, those eyes.

"No. And even Scott doesn't know.", He had the nerve to say.

Stiles snorted a bitter laugh. He doesn't believe it. He sighed and touched his face wearily. "What are we doing?"

Derek sighed in turn. He doesn't even know too. He looked at the forest in front of them, increasingly dark and hoped to have a better answer. "We go ahead. We continue."

"I feel like an idiot."

The head of Derek darted toward Stiles. "Enlighten me."

"I feel guilty." Admitted the young. "I wanna think you're not doing this because of what happened between us, but I feel that it is like this, because if it is, there is still time to make up and fix things, Derek ...", did not finish the sentence, let the supplication to remain silently in the air.

"I'm not doing this for you.", He replied immediately, realizing only later that he had hurt Stiles. And he realized it by how his eyes communicated it to him for a moment, before hiding all emotion and make it inaccessible to him. "I just need to experience better my instinctive side.", He added more gently, as if to apologize.

"And is that what you want? Do you really want it?", He knew that Stiles now was looking at him with eyes that reduced his eyes narrowed and his lips curled slightly as he tried to understand.

Because this was Stiles, and he was always trying to figure out. Everything.

He limited himself to a nod of the head.

 

Stiles moved even closer to him. Derek now felt his characteristic odor wrap him, impregnate the air, intoxicating lungs to make them burn. "You really decided, huh?", The expression was sweet, soft but at the same time fought. "There is nothing that can convince you and that make you stay?"

"It would not be healthy for any of us, Stiles. Especially for you.", Because it was so and he knew it. He owe to that boy some time to restore order in his head and in his heart.

"You are not even forced to face this all alone, though, you know? It would not be the first time that we help you." Derek looked at him with raised eyebrows, even though he knew it was true that in recent years had aid each other many times. "Do not be embarrassed, **_Sourwolf_**." Stiles gave him a wink and Derek never thought that as at that time the other was a total idiot.

"I do not think you can run after me if I turn into a wolf on all fours." Derek obviated.

"You underestimate my abilities, Derek, I feel offended. And then you think, you should not even worry about your condition when you come in human form and you are completely naked. There would not be embarrassed. And then it's cool, you know? Do not get me wrong, not the fact that you go around naked ... but you understand it? It's unique  what you do. "

Derek heard the slow, steady beat of Stiles heart and felt the heat wrap and squeeze his own heart. "And if I lose control? I could harm someone." _I could hurt you,_ Derek thought.  
And he was not so sure he could bear it.

" _I trust you_ , Derek.", And it slipped from those lips with a simplicity that shook Derek. He wondered when exactly they had come to trust each other in this way. He wondered if it was because of the time spent together, of all the dangers escaped or was fault of the bad influence that he had on younger.

They stayed for a while in silence, Derek found it comforting. There wasn't so many moments in the company of Stiles in which he was able to appreciate the silence. And Derek wondered if once he'd gone, Stiles would never come back here, in this same place that they were baptized with the word **_goodbye_**. Derek hoped that Stiles wouldn't do that, because he did not deserve it ... not after as had treated him and how he had managed to erase the smile from his lips when he was with him. Because he was only able to bring pain in others’ lives, it was to be a sort of curse that would accompany him from here to the end of his days. He wished the boy would  found his way and that walked it with head-on, never looking back. Never seeking **him**.

"So, when are you planning to leave?", Stiles's voice hoarse and made him startled. He heard him pull up air from the nose abruptly.

"As soon as possible and as quietly as possible.", said Derek, looking away. **_But then you came and you risked to put into play all my firm decisions_**.

Stiles nodded silently. "Sounds like a wolf thing." he laughed, and the heart of Derek winced. He prayed that the sound would record inside him. On later time, Derek was hit by the smell of acrid tears, but he didn't emphasized it. He would not judge Stiles, even though he should not deserve even a tear from that kid. With an eye he noticed that he begin to shake the left leg, a clear nervous gesture. The wood creaked under the weight. He saw the right sleeve of Stiles damp, as he wiped away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. At that moment, at that exact moment ... Derek began to hate himself.

"I don't think I'm ready to not having you around more. It’s funny, is not it?", His voice was breaking because of the tears.

"No, it is not.", **_Yes, it was_**. And Derek had to restrain the impulse to attract the slender body in his arms and comfort him until he would calm down.  
But he could not do it, not anymore.

Stiles huffed. "I will miss your eyebrows."

"My eyebrows?" Derek wanted to laugh.

"Yes. And your eyes. And your leather jacket. And the Camaro." Derek wanted to say that he would miss all that had passed between them, good and bad that was.

"I could let it ...", he tried with indifference.

"What the Camaro?", Looked surprised.

" **No** , the jacket. If you like it so much." Derek smiled, looking down at himself before looking Stiles.

" **No** ," immediately  replied the young man and this time ... were the feelings of Derek to break up a bit more. "Otherwise, what sense would it?"

Derek took a deep breath from the mouth, and the air entered in his throat trembling. "You're right.", He gave up in the end.

"As always." He winked. "Promise not to get in trouble?", he bit her lip a hint of a smile.

"With the same frequency with which you do not do this.", Derek returned the smile.

"Really, Derek." _Oh, he knew that he was serious_.

"I'm serious too, Stiles."

They looked into each other’s eyes for a time that seemed interminable, in absolute silence. They peered themselves into the shadows of the night. And it was something that characterized them, Derek realized; because it certainly was not the first time that happened that they would stop to look that way, even in the presence of the pack. And it was a way that Derek had never been able to define. But most times, their eyes had seemed like two magnets, uncontrollably attracted to each other.

"Maybe I'd better get back ... I would not want my father to found out my little night escape." the younger ran his hands on the fabric of his jeans. The sound of his voice made clear that he had been crying and Derek figured that was just a hint of tears that would come out of those beautiful eyes.

Derek could only agree more, though; even if he was sorry to let him go. He watched him get up and in reflection - he didn't understand well why - he stood up too.

"Uh, can I ask you just one last thing? Before I let you go ...", Derek did merely a nod, because the truth was that he didn't trust his voice.

The mouth of Stiles gave a slight spasm at both corners, which however does not curved upwards, but remained stable.

Stiles approached those few steps that still separated them and Derek breathed suddenly from the nose. " ** _Do not move_**.", Stiles whispered and Derek's heart began to beat faster, and he hated that his body reacted like a kid when the other was around. Stiles tapped several times eyelids. " _Or rather, you can only do that if you want to escape ... which would be quite understandable ... but otherwise, do not move. Think you can do that for me, Derek?_ " Stiles's eyes found his waiting for him and Derek  found himself nodding without even thinking twice.

He understood the intentions of Stiles, he was not born yesterday. He really was not going to move a millimeter. Perhaps because he wanted to give him something in return for all that he had taken away; or perhaps because he wanted  it as much as the other.

Remained the fact that the expression of Stiles was so concentrated and movements so calculated, it was clear he did not want to scare Derek; for nothing in the world he wanted that he ran away screaming.

Derek had begun to feel a thrill in himself that he liked to define: despair.  
He was a desperate soul.  
Desperate because he had lost control of everything.  
Desperate for how he had once again thrown everything away. Irretrievably.  
Desperate, because broken inside and without remedy.  
Desperate for the person in front of him, for his touch, for his affection, for his understanding and absolution.

Stiles really wondered what he saw in him. Possible than ever once, the demons he carried had stopped him? Possible that he easily managed to creep under his skin?  
Derek wanted to tell him that he was still there, if only he looked better.

Stiles came to rest his fingertips to his own cheeks. It seemed the touch of a ghost, Derek thought. And he thought about how many times he had warmed those hands; especially in the colder months of the year, when the other used to spending hours at the computer and they became like popsicles.  
  
He wondered if Stiles was thinking the same thing.

He tried to move his head, going to meet his touch.

Stiles opened his mouth to snap: " _Please_.", he pleaded. " _It hard enough_ , do not make things worse.", And Derek - even if surprised -  respected him.

Stiles let his left hand slip and  creep through the hair of the older. Derek reflexively closed his eyes and breathed in his scent deeply.  
That same smell that now mingled with pine needles and the subtle smell of ashes.  
He not even opened his eyes when he heard the blast of his warm breath break against his skin; even when he felt the lips of Stiles lean almost imperceptibly on its.  
He stood still, even that moment. Especially at that time.  
Now, he was the one not wanting to frighten Stiles; not wanting him to run away.  
The body of the young man walked more, ending with the clash against his; in a familiar way.  
The touch of his fingers was still weak but persistent, lips still uncertain touched those of Derek.  
Even that gesture had been familiar to them once.  
And now ... nothing seemed easier for two like them.  
And that thought troubled Derek. His brows approached each other and created a frown that was the representation of suffering.

Derek wanted to encourage Stiles, in some way. After all, he wanted that the guy brought along a good memory of him. And the only thing he could do, was to go to place his hands on his slender hips, with a hold more stable and stronger.  
He felt the other's body to have a wince and Stiles pulled away from his lips, as if he had taken a shock.  
But their eyes thought  to communicate something they would not understand ever.  
And all Derek needed to know, was that their faces had approached the one and the other - in symbiosis almost - and had reconnected their lips.  
Derek had literally caught the lip of Stiles and was making them his one last time.  
_Damn_. Derek had felt so much the lack of those lips against his, of those hands that clung to him and that body that adhered to his. He wondered how he would do from tomorrow and go on without any of it. Would ever be able to go further? Or he would  got stuck on things, like he used to?  
Stuck on his past.  
It could have been an accurate description for him.  
  
The kiss became more ravenous, the heads of both were continually changing angle for groped to move further and make it even better the experience of that kiss.  
For Derek was enough to feel the approach of the tongue to know that Stiles had achieved his goal. Stiles took courage and now wants to deepen the kiss; so Derek let him lead that damn kiss and took care to raise Stiles literally from the ground, letting his legs went tight around the hips.  
Stiles smiled against Derek's lips. He smiled because he thought they would soon released all the emotions and words until then silenced. He smiled because he was happy to notice that he still had that effect on Derek. He smiled and let the latter climb the steps, and reach the door.  
  
But Derek never crossed that door that night.

He didn't bring Stiles in that old house, not stripped him, he did not loved him again.  
But, instead, he loosened his grip on his legs and laid him in a way that again rested his feet on the ground.  
Derek opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Not even an apology.  
The eyes of Stiles was filled to the brim with rejection and resignation. Those wonderful eyes were full of tears. Again. In less than a handful of minutes. And it was _his_ fault.

"Stiles ...", he tried to call him, not wanting to be responsible for those tears again. He tried to reach out, looking for a contact.

"Don't touch me." Whispered the young, upset, removing the hand of the other - as if suddenly he had contracted plague - and hurry pass  him down the steps.

Derek turned to watch him go away, powerless.  
Stiles was leaving him, leaving him just behind.  
Now it was no longer Derek to leave Stiles, Stiles was leaving him.  
It hurt, terribly hurt. So bad that it seemed he could not breath in or breath out, because the air was fading.  
_His_ back, was moving away more and more, until it disappears into the night.  
Derek was alone.  
Derek was alone again.

It had been so, he had left his lips. It was perhaps the worst way to leave someone, but the only one he had found.

He could not just take advantage of him in that way and then disappear, without  come back.  
Nothing would be fixed if they had spent the night together. And Derek knew all too well that when Stiles in the morning would find himself alone, he would call Scott and would have took the blame for everything.

To dissuade his attention from reliving those painful memories and in a perverse way pleasant, something else happened.  
He didn't need  to turn toward the entrance to know that someone was there to visit him. He heard perfectly the heartbeat through the door and the smell that had revealed that was someone of his own species.  
Whoever was standing outside his apartment, he had to know who he lived there. Otherwise, why linger in front of the door of an unknown person?  
His level of curiosity in wanting to find out what the visitor wanted, was really low percentage.  
Rather, he felt annoyed.  
Why not just leave him alone? Why not go to annoy someone else? Why him?  
He inhaled deeply.

He decided to deal with the unexpected when he heard the loft door creak and slide down the track that allowed her to close and open.  
He turned slowly, staging an impressed expression . After all, it took guts to get into someone else's house without knocking.  
At his eyes he found a boy. Tall, blond, blue eyes ... just the classic Californian profile, he just sinned for tan.  
He was dressed in dark... colors did not seem to be his best.  
And his expression was ... smiling? What he was smiling for?

"Can I help you?" She asked Derek, maybe pretending to have met him in the hallway after noticing his expression bewildered - totally absent now - on the face of the other.

" ** _Derek Hale_** , right?", the boy wanted to be sure, narrowing his eyes and step more inside.

"And you would be?"

"Theo.", he said simply.

Derek raised his eyebrows, completely unimpressed. " ** _Theo_**?", remarked almost like it was something funny.

"Theo is enough.", and the boy began to move closer with calm, as if he were taking a walk, to the owner of that apartment.

"Well... what do you want, Theo?" Derek asked again, crossing his arms behind his back and clenching his fists.  Derek did not like it when strangers went to violate his privacy, his home, his property, his den. Whatever.

"Straight to the point, huh?", the guy asked the guy who went on to have this amused expression that gave rise irritation in Derek's chest and extended it to the fingertips.  
Yes, Derek thought, straight to the point. Because he did not like to turn around things. "Let's say I have heard a lot about you. So I thought I'd meet you in person. It is a problem?", The boy was now little more than four step away from him.

Derek folded his arms across his chest and looked away, bored. "I do not care." Shrugged, trying to stifle a derisive smile.  
The last thing he needed was a fan  
Theo took another step. His smile grew. Even the desire of Derek to punch him. "You remind me of someone, you know? I moved in Beacon Hills recently, but I've already met  Scott. It's really impressive, is not him?", the blond continued, without caring for what Derek had said. Indeed, he cocked his head and glared at him with scrutineer face.

The older, took a deep breath from his nostrils, more bored. He did not understand where that kid was going to end up with that visit and the story of his life he could not care less. He already had his own problems to think about, would not then bear someone else's and certainly did not want to spend his time listening to other people's lives.  
Therapist was not one of his skills.

  
But then, something hit Derek.  
It hit him like a stormy wave shattered on a rock.  
Something woke Derek, from the inside. Surprising him. Catching him off guard. For a split second Derek thought he felt the panic made his away inside him.  
What caught his attention was something that hovered between the stale smell of dust, damp loft, and mingled with the smell that covered Theo. Because this kid smelled of wolf, and hydrocarbons ... but carried with him something that Derek knew damn well.  
A hint vaguely familiar, faint but persistent. And that smell prevailed in a note of anxiety.  
And the expression of Theo was so relaxed, the heartbeat so regular ... it was clear that anxiety was not due to him, but to someone else.  
The problem was that he had already smelled this emotion on someone else.  
And the truth hit him harder.  
Derek looked back on Theo.

"Derek, sure you're okay? You look like someone who has just seen a ghost." Theo smiled again. That smile of fucking to paint that face.

Derek felt anger grew inside, like a whirlwind that was they swell up to become a tornado.  
He had always been an impulsive and instinctive man, it would not be different this time.  
Before Theo could really understand - despite the indisputable reflex that be a werewolf carried with itself -, Derek approached him, grabbed him by the t-shirt and slammed him with strength against the nearest wall.  
He kept him there, pressed against the hard and cold surface . The feet were slightly off the ground, to give him those few centimeters in height that he probably asked during the growth.  
The boy in question coughed.

"Okay, they had mentioned your strong behavior -," Derek didn't wanted to hear over it. He hold the body of Theo away from the wall and crashed against it again, without ever leaving his grip on his t-shirt. It seemed a puppet in his hands.  
He was happy that the wall contained the pressure, did not want to fix that too, he had already took care to clean up the window glass. "What's wrong with you?", Theo shouted, looking confused now.

Derek thought that was better now.  
He preferred the confusion showing on his face, rather that that smile bully .

"Why don't you tell me? You've taken the bother _to come here_."

Just the thought that Theo could really do such a thing was enough to sending him out of mind. The thought that he had masterminded all this, evoked inside of Derek strong emotions, intense and irrational.  
He began to think that that little boy had dug his own grave.  
He didn't believe it was a coincidence that he was soaked in that smell and then he just showed directly here. To **_him_**.  
And on the other hand ... how did he know that he was still in town? Had he only tried their luck?  
He still had not showed around. He had been careful, meticulously careful.  
And if **_he_** had sent him? To test him?  
Derek felt stunned, didn't know what to think.

"I don't know what you're talking about, _man_."

Derek growled in warning.

First, he was many things, but for this one he for sure wasn't "man"; but he would not waste his time to explain it in words. And then what was that youth slang? Who was talking like this in today's world?  
Second, no one could think of to make fun of him in this way. He had been fooled many times in the past, he would not have made the same mistake. And... in his house? Under the same roof? Come on.

"When I ask one thing, I do it politely. And only once.", Derek  said seraphic, keeping Theo pointed at the wall. As a stubborn thumbtack that does not want to be fixed to the wall.

The boy didn't tried to speak, he merely to pant and groped to break free from the iron grip of the hands of Derek. The older rolled his eyes and came up with the body tumbling to Theo, almost crushing him with his weight. "Why don't you tell me what is doing **_his_** smell on ** _you_**?", For example.

Theo looked confused at first, then seemed to realize. "You mean Stiles?" Derek just nod. "Stilinski? Really?"

Derek's chest rumbled again, was losing patience. "Just answer the question.", **_Or I could  choose what way is better to reduce you to shreds._**

That smell, continued to contaminate the air around him and ... he didn't be able to breathe it for so long that he seemed to do it for the first time. It seemed to be an addict out of rehab, which fell miserably into temptation again.

Theo chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? Because we hand out. And I mean in a somewhat more than friendly." Lips bent in a wry smile.

Derek began primarily to listen carefully, he thought that the other would give a serious answer; but just could not believe such a thing. Or rather, he did not want to. Perhaps he would not be able to accept it even if he had seen with his own eyes.  
With one hand he continued to hold him against the wall, while the other hand went on until it was wrapped around the warm skin of his neck.  
Derek was not in the mood for jokes. He never was and it would not be in that case.  
Maybe Theo needed an incentive to collaborate.  
He tight a bit his hold around her neck. "Okay, okay ... I met him too, not just Scott. It's a type really clumsy, but he knows his stuff. I was with him yesterday, in his car ... that sort of machine - "

"It 'a Jeep." Derek interrupted.

"What?" Theo was confused.

"His car. It 'a Jeep.", Pointed out.

"Yeah ... whatever. It was destroyed, nearly he took even fire."

Derek's heart stopped for a moment.  
**_What the hell was ranting that little boy?_**

Really he began to think that behind all that there was Stiles.  
He had discovered that he was in town? Why was he doing this?  
He wanted to let him know a dramatic tale for show up? It was really that what he wanted to play?  
Derek released his grip on Theo, who fell tumbling to the ground, accompanied by a thud. " ** _Get out_**.", He said suddenly, with a cold tone that brooked no argument. He passed him and walked away from him.  
He stopped at the counter and put his hands against it. He took a deep breath, thinking frantically what to do.  
  
Theo coughed and then gave birth to a slight laugh. "It's a shame, because I really wanted to tell you how much _your Stiles_ has changed."  
  
**_Your Stiles_**.  
Derek clenched his fists and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He did not want to hear any more. Really he did not need it.  
Some fragments of that night ran to his mind. Fragments that as pieces of glass inflicted in him, wounding him.  
He saw Stiles, his eyes, he smell again the scent wrapped him, and the moment when their lips touched.  
He shivered.

Theo meanwhile was on his feet. "Did he tell you what he did? Of course not, right? He killed someone." Derek's expression became confused. He didn't understand. "Yes, Derek. That's right. Stiles killed a guy. And you know who took care to watch his back? I did. I didn't say anything to anyone, while I could confess to his father, how well he raised his son. ", he pointed to himself, then he pointed the same finger at Derek. "Where were you in all this? Here. Hiding like a coward." Theo  wandered his blue eyes to the loft to make it obvious.

"You don't know anything." Derek whispered, his eyes more empty than before. He took a step back. Released his grip on the counter.

Was it true?  
Stiles had really killed someone? And the Jeep was really destroyed?  
The Stiles he knew was not capable of such a thing... and when he had courage, he was not exactly itself.  
His gaze flew to the phone on the counter.  
That was why he had received those phone calls from him?  
Stiles had asked for his help and he had not showed up, because he believed it was an anxiolytic crisis that saw him protagonist. And he wanted Stiles grew, that he learned to do without him.  
Derek felt the ground under his feet fade.

"Surprising. He said the same thing, when I confessed that I knew about Donovan." The attention of Derek snapped to Theo. "And you know what he did after that? He tried to lay hands on me. Just like you did." Theo gave a nod to Derek.

Derek tried to imagine the scene.  
He imagined Stiles who was trying to protect himself, trying to assert himself for once.  
Imperceptibly the corners of his mouth turned upward. He did not know whether out of pride or to keep from crying.  
Yet, in the face of that image was added and Theo, and the little distance that was between them ... he did not like it.  
His mood darkened, as well as his expression turned grim. "It will not be a problem. I can do better.", He assured him always seraphic, as he felt the claws grow.  
Theo's eyes were just fixed on them, then went back to Derek. " ** _Man_** , there's no need to get that much-"

" ** _Oh_** , I think you should have thought before show yourself here with **_his_** scent on you." Derek objected while stepping forward, moving his neck from side to side as if he were stretching. "And you really have to stop with that man thing, because I'll blow your eyes.", He added, as he felt the instinct take over. Blue eyes sparkling pointed at Theo. He growled.

And the next moment he was on him.

Theo stepped back, startled.  
He tried to protect himself from the attack of Derek with his arms, but it was not the face that Derek had hit. The shirt was a clear witness to the passing of the claws of Derek.

The boy looked at the wound that had begun to bleed and when he looked back at Derek, he had left space to the instinct too. "I wanted to **_remind_** how it was.", And growled at Derek.

Derek growled furiously in response, and grabbed Theo like a light weight and literally threw him across the room.  
It ended with the slamming against a pillar.  
Blood spurted out of the mouth that ended up on the floor.  
Derek noticed it and his mouth formed a grimace at the thought that he would have to clean up everything.  
Derek joined him, without giving a moment's respite.  
He grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and began punching him in the face. Repeatedly. He saw the skin redden more and more under his touches tireless, dedicated and resolute.  
Other streams of blood spewed from the mouth of Theo, who cashed the blows of the older without reacting.

"It was _him_ who sent you here?"  Derek asked with clenched teeth. "It was _him_ to tell you where to find me? Answer me!", Derek shake the body of Theo.

"Stiles is only capable of snivel. Do you really think it's out there waiting for you?" Theo's lip was bleeding, but despite that he had the courage to smile. He looked Derek and said, "Come on, you know that you're wasting energy ... I will heal."

And Derek stopped instantly, the fuck... was true. "Yeah, that's right. **_I'm like you_** , after all. And you cannot blame me... you're the only one responsible. You have caused all this. _You let him alone_ , when he needed **_you_**. You abandoned him."

Derek grabbed his head and forcefully pushed against the pillar. Once, twice, three. Under the groans of suffering Theo. And perhaps he was beginning to leak blood from there. He did not care at all.  
He was blinded by anger, by the  wearing idea of Stiles alone and away from him.  
The other heartbeat was slowing down, perhaps because of excessive blood loss ... Derek was not giving him enough respite to heal wounds.  
He put his own lips next to his ear: " ** _You're not like me_**."  
He sprang to his feet and looked down at the boy semi-conscious with tough expression.

He looked around, thinking about the next move.

He moved a chair and grabbed the dying body, putting him sitting and making sure it wouldn't slip away.  
He retrieved the scotch tape and tied his hands. Not too tight to stop the blood circulation, but enough to keep him steady.  
He took the other chair and positioned it not far from the other, so that he was in  front of him. He reached out and lightly slapped his cheek, wanting to wake him.

"Come on Theo, let's have a chat as friends.", And this time it was Derek to smile.

The boy seemed to wake from a state of trans, as it seemed disoriented. The blood in the abdominal area had soaked his shirt and a few drops of blood had slipped out of his mouth and ended with spotting the chest of the t-shirt. Theo's face was still a bit swollen from the punches that Derek had given him, the blood around his mouth was drying and Derek thought that maybe he should find a way to mark him permanently.  
  
Derek wondered if Theo was satisfied with how they were finishing things, if that was what he had expected or had never put something like this in plan.

  
Theo's eyes seemed to reconnect with reality, in fact, he realized that he was sitting.  
Derek looked at him patiently. He was a predator, wait was what he did best.  
Theo tried to move, but he realized that his hands were stuck.  
Derek breathed a laugh, enjoying the spectacle of realization.  
  
Theo jerked and realized that was tied. He looked Derek: "Why did you do that?"

Derek shrugged nonchalantly. "Call it hospitality."

"Let me go." Theo tried, but Derek shook his head. It was not how it worked.

"Why do not we play a game, Theo? I'm sure that at your age you still know what it is to play.", He was subtly giving him the infant. Theo said nothing, just looked at him in the eye with a serious expression.

"What I get in return?"

"The way out of here."

"Or what?"

"Otherwise I'll kill you on the spot and I will ensure that no one can find your corpse." Derek looked at him persuasive, he really wanted to avoid another excessive bloodshed.

The older man raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Theo nodded silently.  
Good.  
Maybe now things were going to improve.

"Who is Donovan?"

"It was a Wendigo. You know, the ones that feed with human meat-"

Derek stopped him. "I know what it is."

"Okay ... well, what he wanted was to taste Stiles."

Derek's forehead furrowed. "Why?"

Theo was tempted to reply mockingly that he had suggested to Donovan to kill Stiles, but he would not. He was not stupid. He cared about his own skin. "He wanted to become a cop, but the test showed that he was not exactly the ideal candidate. He threatened John Stilinski to kill him and Stiles was there, I think you know what how his sarcasm can be caustic... Donovan thought that after all, Stiles  was a better target than the father. "

He was no doubt aware - Derek - that Stiles was protective about his father, and had learned the hard way that Stiles's sarcasm could be pungent. "Why Stiles should have had interests in killing him?"

"For self-defense? They were in the library of the school when it happened ... but there was something in the way he told me ..."

Derek looked Theo with more attention. "What do you mean?"

"I do not know ... I asked him how he felt when he saw him dying ..."

The desire of Derek to punch him was growing again.

"He said one word: **_good_**." Theo was now studying his reaction.

  
Derek thought he was suddenly deaf.

He leaned against the back of the chair, distraught face.  
It could not be any residual Nogitsune, they had eradicated it. They had changed the host.  
The attention of Derek went on Theo. Derek drew the other chair and looked at him closely.  
Derek pulled out his claws and went to grab the young man's face. "Your pulse is regular."

 

"Because I'm not lying.", He defended.

"I think you can do better.", With the claw he went to touch the skin of the cheek, with force, leaving that leaks of blood.

"I'm not lying!"

"I do not believe you." Derek did not stop. Increased strength in cutting the skin.

"I heard his heartbeat!" Theo Cried  and Derek froze. "He was not lying. He was serious, deadly serious. He liked it."

That made Derek's skin crawl.  
It was like being in a horror movie series B.

"And what did you say to him?"

"Anything."

"You didn't tell... _anything_?"

"What was I supposed to tell him?"

"One person tells you that he felt good in murdering someone and you did not tell him anything? What kind of person are _you_?", Derek scolded.

If only there it had been him ... that Donovan would not even come close to Stiles. Damn.

"Look, maybe he doesn't like me and he don't want even trust me... but **_I will protect him_**."

Derek glared at him, as if he had started singing a Christmas song at a funeral. "Excuse me?"

" ** _I'll protect him_**."

Derek dropped one slap. With all the strength in his body, his hand tingled. In his face. With claws. With such force that the chair lost stability and fell into ruin on the ground perpendicular.  
Theo was bleeding again. On his floor. He moaned like a sissy.  
Derek stepped on his left ankle, feeling the connective tissues to bend under the weight and strength. Theo began to scream so heartbreaking. " ** _No one get close to my family._** _No one_.", Derek voice glacial.

He took away his foot only after hearing the crack of the bone broke.

He crouched beside the body shaken by tremors of Theo. "You will heal, _right_? _You're like me_ , after all." He stood up.

"W-wait ... where do you go?"

Derek didn't answer.  
He left him there, slumped.  
He grabbed his leather jacket and put it on.

"Wait! You cannot leave me here! Please! I will not show up here again, I will not search you, I will not say anything to anyone!"

Derek stood on the steps and grabbed the door handle of the loft. "I think you're a smart guy, Theo. You'll find a way to not make me find you here on my return.", And though his hands full of blood rushed out of the loft.  
He said  to himself that there was no time to wash them.  
He ran as fast as possible once out of the building. He slowed only when he realized that he had taken the right avenue.  
The street lights illuminated the road and the air was still and calm.  
He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and stood on the sidewalk. He looked at the house from that distance. He looked up at the light in the top left corner.  
The window was open.  
He sighed.  
  
"Stiles, you're at home?", The voice of John Stilinski reached his ears loud and clear.

"Yeah, here i'm."

Derek's heart began to beat slow.  
That voice. It almost hurts the ears hear it again.  
It seemed that instead of the heart, had a heavyweight.  
He could feel the heart of the father downstairs and the one of Stiles upstairs.

"How was your day?"

"... I took Roscoe to a mechanic, said that for her there is nothing to do."

"Son, I thought ... you should choose a new car."

A moment of silence. "I know, but Roscoe was..."

"I know, son, I know."

A sigh. Stiles sighed.  
Derek went on to look at the light from the window of Stiles.  
As a poor human hypnotized by the song of a siren.

"Do you think we could eat dumplings tonight? Today was a really hard day for both of us, do not you agree? ... Stiles? Are you even listening?"

"Just moment dad! I have to close the window!"

Derek winced.  
A shadow moved and went in front to the window.  
Derek had to use all the strength of will to move away from there as quickly as possible.

"Done?", He called again the father, now that he was going upstairs.

"Y-yes ..."

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm just ... I'm sorry, I had thought I saw someone ... probably is just the tiredness."

"Never mind, we can order something."

Derek heard the footsteps of John Stilinski leave Stiles's room.

He spent a few moments in silence, in which Derek concentrated only to hear the sound of the heartbeat of Stiles.

" ** _Derek_**?", Came as a gust that caused Derek to hold his breath. " _Derek_?", Even more a whisper, but still enough for him to hear.  
Then a sigh that was between him disheartened and frustrated. "God, how much I'm crazy if I see you where you are not."

Derek began to walk away, determined not to interfere.  
Derek left his sun behind, again.  
Left him behind, the only difference that he was not ready to close the chapter and start a new one.  
He left him behind and was the most heartbreaking thing he had ever done.  
He left him behind in the knowledge that this would have persecuted and tormented him also in the afterlife.

 End.

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have noticed, my first goal was to describe the farewell between Stiles and Derek.  
> When Theo points out that Derek responds and reacts the same way as Stiles, it is not accidental.  
> All you will have noticed that since Derek went away, Stiles is a bit 'more ... nervous. Here ... I enjoyed reconnecting in this way. I like to think that sometimes Stiles would react like Derek, just to make the idea of him still exists.  
> Also the: "I do not care." Stiles says in the car with Theo, when Theo tells that Stiles reminded of someone to him (his sister)... those are the words for Derek, like his motto!  
> And when Theo in this story says: "You remind me of someone," in this case is not the sister, but it is Stiles.  
> And the final scene ... I loved the idea of Derek running to Stiles for cheacking on him, because him neither trusts Theo.
> 
> And ... little bonus: Stiles saw Derek. Let's say the wolf has not been as fast as was believed to be (;


End file.
